


Opportunity Of A Life Time

by rex101111



Category: Space Vehicles
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Gen, I am sad because of the metal space puppy and now so will all of you, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 13:09:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17788004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rex101111/pseuds/rex101111
Summary: Opportunity knew something was wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.





	Opportunity Of A Life Time

Opportunity knew something was wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.

She couldn’t see, she couldn’t move.  

It was dark, the sun was gone. It was right there a second ago where did it go?

The Men On The Ground were panicking, calling out to her, asking her if she was okay, where is she, what does she see?

They’re worried for her and she can do nothing, she’s stuck.

She can still hear, can still hear wind howling and stones bouncing off red sand. She can hear her home around her, and it  _is_  home, for what else could it be? A home of red sand and red stone and long days and nights.

She remembers every formation, every picture she sent back to The Men On The Ground, every little point of light in the sky. Even blind she can see it clearly.

Clearest of all is that little pale dot, speckled with a little bit of green and a whole lot of blue, the place from where she was sent, the place where The Men On The Ground sent her praises, sang her songs, wished her and her brothers and sisters happy birthday.

They called her Oppy.

They won’t stop panicking, she realizes, they will keep trying to get to her. She loves them for this, loves them more than any picture can show and more than any message she can send.

They will waste time, she knows this, she knows this is it. Her eyes are gone, her legs won’t move, only a matter of time.

She loves them, because she does she waits until the last minute, until she only has enough for one last message, something final and kind and that can hopefully convey one-one-millionth of the love she feels for them, for all their praises and all their songs.

“my battery is low and it is getting dark”

And dark is the word for it, her home of 15 years freezes around her, the sun so…so far away…

Except they don’t stop.

They keep trying, keep sending messages,  _wake up oppy, where are you?, please wake up,_  for days and weeks and  _months_  they try…but she can’t say anything back.

They send songs.

Happy ones, sad ones, ones that she  _swears_  makes the red stones themselves shake, a song of every creed and every intent they send her…she remembers them talking about Curiosity, how it would sing for itself on every birthday, she wished she could have met Curiosity, maybe she could have learned too? Who knows.

There is a stretch of silence, and she thinks they finally gave up, turned away from this camera on wheels that can help them no more, from this piece of scrap that send them no more pictures and can’t be called Oppy anymore, because Oppy  _does_  send pictures and listens to songs, and what can she do now?

What can this heap of garbage do now, except rot on some rock millions of miles away from the people she loves so much? 

And then…The Men On The Ground send her one last song, soft and sweet and speaking of the sun.

_I’ll find you in the morning sun_

_And when the night is new_

_I’ll be looking at the moon_

… _But I’ll be seeing you_

Oppy remembers where Earth would be, at this time and at these coordinates, she moves her blind eyes to gaze upon it, love in every circuit and in every line of code.

Some part of her, some part that is more than metal and closer to star dust, slowly hums along to the song, the soft sounds bouncing off the red sands and carried off by the winds.

The song finishes, and Oppy, happy in the dark and in the cold, drifts off to sleep.

She wonders, wonders what song The Men On The Ground will send her tomorrow when she needs to wake up.

She hopes its a song about the sun.


End file.
